


New Disguises

by hamletmustdie



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib has a crisis, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Swearing, implied - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamletmustdie/pseuds/hamletmustdie
Summary: Zim's got a new disguise; Dib's afraid he might like it.





	New Disguises

**Author's Note:**

> THIS EXCELLENT POST inspired me to finish this one https://wherebear.tumblr.com/post/187958523780/would-dib-even-recognize-a-passable-human :-O

_ New kid today…  _ The thought is in and out of Dib’s mind as his eyes glue to Zim’s desk. It’s 8:55 AM, class begins in five, and Zim is  _ never  _ late. It shouldn’t surprise him, Zim being a literal alien  _ soldier _ , this determined punctuality, but it always does. He just expects Zim to slack off when it comes to school and so it’s stupid when he treats things with such intense importance. Like the other week when he called Dib in a panic demanding to know the difference between baking soda and baking  _ powder _ . Then, which was best for a volcano to which Dib replied,  _ we’re juniors in hi-skool, Zim, don’t  _ tell me  _ of all things your science project is a VOLCANO.  _ To which Zim screamed something, then hung up. His project for that assignment ended up being a foodie-shrinking device and Dib still hadn’t worked out the correlation between that, volcanoes, and baking soda…

He’s so caught up glowering about Zim that he doesn’t notice this new kid slithering his way for his desk, dropping his textbooks on the floor just to make Dib jolt with the SLAM they make on the ground. He blinks wildly, jumping.

The new kids’ hands slam down on Dib’s desk. His eyes are a remarkably unnatural purple color, but Dib can tell they’re not contacts.  _ Who the hell  _ is  _ this guy?  _ He pulls back, glaring. 

“Surprised,  _ Dib? _ What do you think of your superior enemy  _ now _ ?”

“ _ What _ ?” It doesn’t click, not for another few extra seconds, but ultimately it's the gloves that set him off. The kid is wearing a striped, purple hoodie that’s a size too big. Beneath that, a black shirt, black pants, tall black boots, and an obnoxious fuschia backpack with little keychains of a familiar alien symbol dangling from its straps. There are circles under his eyes, smudges of sleepless nights this disguise can’t make up for, and his teeth are a little crooked, his smile a touch too long. Then those long, tight gloves. Black, leather, stretched  _ over  _ his shirt sleeves like some idiot. And then of course… 

“Amazing, aren’t I?” that _stupid_ _voice_...

Dib realizes he’s been speechless for far too long, and he flusters for a response. He can’t give  _ Zim _ the satisfaction that he’s actually  _ surprised  _ right now. “What the hell is this about  _ now _ Zim? You think this is somehow better! I think it’s worse-”

It’s a bad response, not well thought out at all but it manages to make Zim bristle. 

“What are you talking about, of course it’s perfect! Of course, my prior disguise did me well for all those years.. But you sickly, stupid humans insist on warping yourselves throughout your brief lives. It’s only natural that I, Zim, a normal human worm child, would change as well,”

Dib glared, “You look  _ nothing _ like you did yesterday, Zim. Don’t you think everyone’s going to notice?”

“Yes, well,” he looks aside at his reflection in the window, admires it, then glances back at the classroom. It seems that that hasn’t occurred to him at all. “Um. You. Filthy Earth parasite,” he gets the attention of a student a desk away, talking to another classmate.

“What  _ now _ ?” she grumbles.

“I am Zim, yes, your superior, perfect classmate whom you have known for the past, ehhh, six years?” 

She stares at him, squints for a long, long time. Dib looks between them, incredulous. “Come on, Samantha, you’ve never  _ SEEN  _ this kid before!”

“Umm,” She taps her chin. The girl beside her leans in, squints too.

Dib waves wildly at Zim. “Zim had  _ green skin  _ and no ears! NO EARS! This kid has ears and human-looking skin! And he’s suddenly taller! If this is Zim then that means he must have some  _ strange,  _ ALIEN technology to-”

“Oh, congratulations I guess, Zim, on getting surgery for your uhhh… Disability. I guess.” Samantha’s friend nods, they turn, go back to talking. Dib thinks his love for mankind has been on thin ice for a very long time. When he looks back at Zim, he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin he’s ever seen.

“ _ See _ , Dib? Of  _ course  _ I’ve always looked this way,”

“That isn’t what she said at all,”

“Yes, whatever, well,” he waves off the comment, standing straighter and crossing his arms over his chest. Dib’s near huffing as he realizes he’s pushing his desk forward to stand and find Zim has exactly  _ half an inch  _ on him now. They realize this together, as usual, and Zim’s eyes widen into shock, then pure, absolutely  _ disgusting glee _ and he grins wildly. “And would you look at that! To be honest with you, Dib, I had realized last night I somehow  _ did not  _ have your height logged into my base anywhere. But it seems that doesn’t matter now, because Zim, you’re horrible, absolutely diabolical enemy is now taller than you-”

“Yeah by hardly an inch, Zim! Like it even matters-”

“IT DOES MATTER! Of course it matters. It would seem I’ve won this time, Dib~” he sings his name, pokes him hard in the chest with almost every word, and Dib stumbles into his chair again while Zim turns on a heel and marches to his desk. He’s still grinning when he sits, hands folded in front of him just in time for the teacher to arrive.

Dib scowls and pulls out his books, pretending to bitterly distract himself by flipping the pages of his textbook.

Class drones on, and he watches Zim from the corner of his eye. Watches him take out his books and pretend to follow along. Watches how even as a human, he’s got strange angles to his face, sharp jaw and high cheeks. His eyes are a faint lavender. It’s unnatural but it’s…  _ Different.  _ Then there’s the body; still angular, still long, still lanky, but human-height, delicate almost. Zim catches him looking and scowls and Dib is horrified by his first reaction to look anxiously away.

Dib has just turned eighteen as of four months ago. He’s already filled out eight different college applications all to science and computer tech schools, as per his father’s insistence. He’s already got an internship at Membrane’s Labs that he is  _ not  _ looking forward to. He spends as much time away from home as he can. He doesn’t even need to sneak out, though if it’s past eight, he does have to find ways to avoid the dad-bot which guards the kitchen and front door (his father never updated the thing to accommodate his aging children). He sees Zim more than his own sister most weeks. And right now, Zim’s managed to surprise him for the first time in actual years. 

Class continues, and Dib makes an effort not to look at Zim again. Something about those eyes...

  
  


The cafeteria is packed today but Dib bumbles through the crowd, doesn’t even grab a tray or even considers eating. He finds Zim’s table, always to the far back so he can see all the other students. It’s so weird having his eyes not need to fall to a tiny, gremlin looking child bent over a tray and poking at lima beans like they might grow legs and walk off. Of course, even as a “ _ human” _ Zim is still doing that. He sees Dib quicker than Dib would like, storming towards his table. Zim grins.

“What’s got you in such a huff, hmmm,  _ Dib?  _ Can’t stand that your enemy blends more  _ perfectly  _ than ever now?”

“Can that new disguise mask your stupid voice, too? Because I’m tired of hearing it,”

“Oh, yes, it can, I’m still working on it, BUT NO, if it makes you feel better I shall ensure I sound like ZIM forever,”   
  


Dib sits down in front of him, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and dropping it in front of him. “How’d you get yourself to look that human, huh? Where’d you find the DNA?”   
  


“Oh I didn’t  _ need _ to go looking for it,  _ Dib.” _

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, let’s just say that… There was  _ plenty  _ smeared  _ alllll  _ about my base,” he splays his fingers out. They’re long, piano-playing fingers, and it takes Dib great effort not to stare.

He glares. “That… Sounded  _ so  _ gross,”

“You leave your filthy human HAIR and tiny, tiny skin cells EVERYWHERE, Dib-filth, and once you got sick when you found my medical bay-”

“You were in the middle of live vivisection of, of- I don’t even wanna KNOW what that thing was! But it was huge! And there were so many GUTS!” He clapped a hand over his mouth; he’d thrown up on the floor and nearly slipped on it escaping that day. Zim had never gotten over having to clean that up. Even though Dib was certain his computer had done it for him. He almost felt bad if only because it hadn’t been intentional, although he’d had to pretend it was for the rouse it had caused in Zim.

“Whatever. Of course something as trivial as that would make your inferior human organs ill. But anyhow, it was incredibly simple, all I needed was just a little of your pathetic DNA to-” he stops short, eyes widening before he slams two hands down in front him, “You are trying to manipulate ZIM for my superior, Irken secrets! NEVER! You’ll have to work harder than  _ that _ , feeble-human!”

“So... “ Dib looks him up and down, finds, with great relief, that they bear absolutely zero resemblance to one another, “You used… My own… DNA,”

“Yes,”

“That’s- Zim that is  _ so fucked up,” _ __   
  


_ “ _ There is nothing ‘ _ fucked up’  _ about it. It’s ingenious. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!” He catches Dib’s sickened look and looks exasperated, “Oh  _ please _ Dib, there was other DNA, too. Do you know how many filthy, disgusting humans have tried to get their hands on the secrets of the Almighty Irken  _ Zim?  _ Not many, because my base is so well protected from the likes of your kind, but, ehh, enough to make this,” he gestures proudly to himself. 

“I can’t believe you- oh my God, I think I might be sick again-”

“Then go elsewhere!”

“You did this last  _ night _ ?”   
  


“Yes,”

“And what gave you this… Idea…?”

“Well, ehh, it was all me, of course-”

A tray slams onto the table to Zim’s right and he jumps. Dib looks up and see’s-

“Oh, it’s you, Dib. I had expected you might have gotten yourself killed by now,” The voice is still nasally, strangely accented, if not only  _ slightly  _ older sounding.

“ _ Tak..!?”  _ Dib can hardly believe his eyes; she’s taller now, her hair is just an inch or so longer. She’s still got that exhausted, half-lidded look in her eyes, similar to Zim’s own.

“Yes, yes I know.” Tak sits down beside Zim, putting a noticeable seven inches between them. “I made his disguise,”

Zim stiffens. “Liar! It was a joint effort-”

“There’s absolutely zero human DNA to be found in that disguise. It’s an Irken hologram-”

“LYING!”

“- Zim’s PAK is so damaged it couldn’t even project something this tangible, so I had to-”

“SHE’S LYING! MY PAK IS NOT-”

“Shut  _ UP _ , Zim!” Dib and Tak snap it at the same time, and Zim blinks, a little surprised then grumbles and sulks.

Dib looks at Tak. “But, Tak, I thought-... I thought you were dead,” She shrugs. “When did you start coming here?”

“Yesterday,”

“Yesterday-”

“But you didn’t notice. I sit behind you in algebra,”

“She watches you,  _ Dib,  _ and you’re too  _ stupid _ and dense to notice.” Having recovered from his earlier scolding, Zim leans over his lunch tray to grin wildly at Dib, “But then, you don’t notice most things. Yesterday I put ANOTHER tracking device in your corn. And you didn’t NOTI-”

“I dumped that in the trash, Zim. Your tracking devices are always too big, no one’s EVER going to swallow them.” He shook his head. “So, why… Why are you back? Trying to destroy the earth again for your leaders? You won’t get away with it you know-”

But Tak is already waving him off, rolling her eyes and sighing.

“I’m not interested in your useless planet any longer. I’m simply waiting for  _ Zim  _ to prepare my new ship and then I’ll be leaving,” At that detail, Dib catches Zim bristle but somehow, he says nothing. Merely stabs some of his food with his fork, mumbling Irken and examining the fork with narrowed eyes. Tak takes up her own utensils, pokes at her own food. “So the food here is still toxic waste, I see?”

“ _ All  _ earth food is toxic waste,” Zim grumbles.

Dib narrows his eyes, “Zim, I saw you order six tacos from the Krazy Taco last week, then come back an hour later-”

Zim drops his fork, “That was for  _ GIR,  _ and  _ WHY WERE YOU FOLLOWING ME?” _

“And then I followed you back to my house afterward! Why were  _ you _ trying to spy on  _ me,  _ Zim!?”

“Zim was not spying, merely, ehh, researching your pathetic human sleeping rituals, until I learned you were nowhere to be found, of course,”

“So you two haven’t really changed since elementary school, hm?” Tak asks. There’s a faint smile in her mouth. 

Jointly, Dib and Zim glare at her and spit, “What are you even  _ talking about _ ?” At the same time, near-identical intonations.

Zim scowls at Dib. “You’re doing that copy-cat thingy-”

“I am not! You copy me all the time!”

“LIAR! Zim copies no one-”

“You copy my homework almost every week! I’ve been to the office nearly a dozen times about it!”

“LIES! I have no idea what you might be talking about,” he presses a hand to his chest, leaning over the table, “and do you think I’d ever need  _ your  _ pitiful, meager intelligence to complete the banal tasks we’re given in this hellhole? ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

“Enough yelling,” Tak’s massaging her temples, elbows on the table. “Zim is enough of an egomaniac in this place, can’t you both just be quiet for a moment?” They glower at each other. Tak drops her hands. “Because I am not interested in whatever irritating scheme you are concocting right now,  _ Dib,  _ I am going to tell you that there are no grand plans between Zim and I. So  _ please _ , do not feel obligated to get in my way. I’ll be out of yours before you know it,”

“WRONG, there absolutely  _ is  _ a devastating plan in order which is shared between Tak and I, and together we shall-”

“Shut up Zim,” 

“And why on earth would I trust you?” Dib asks, glaring at Tak.

She shrugs. “Because.” And it’s all the explanation she offers. Zim is grinning.

“You’ve no idea the  _ danger  _ coming to your planet, soon, pathetic human.”

Dib glowers at him, but Tak’s attention has diverted to her tray where she squints at the food and tries to determine what is edible and what is not. Zim’s prepared for a staring contest but Dib stands up.

“I’ll figure out what two have planned eventually, don’t you think for a second I won’t,” 

“You’ll figure out NOTHING, human!” Zim points. Tak ignores them both as Dib stalks off.

  
  
  


Dib waits behind the open locker, arms crossed, looking stern. Zim slams it shut and yelps in panic when he catches sight of him. His brows furrow. “What do  _ you  _ want, human?”

“I want to know what you and Tak are planning!” Dib thrusts a finger into Zim’s chest and he backs away. Always with Dib, the list to figure out whatever it is with Zim begins simply: just ask. Sometimes, Zim just straight out tells him. 

“I don’t know what you’re  _ talking about _ ,” he spits.

“How long as Tak been alive?”

“That’s a stupid question. As long as  _ now, stupid-human _ ,”

“I meant how long have you  _ known _ ,  _ Zim? _ ”

“Oh, for longer than you might have guessed, Dib-thing. For  _ years  _ now,”

“Then why have you been sitting on this knowledge for so long?  _ HM?!”  _ Dib steps closer- Zim steps further back. Is that a blush growing in the Irken’s high cheeks? Dib feels his own face warming. 

“Zim h-has not been  _ sitting  _ on anything!” He backs further away, “Just watch helpless as Tak and I devastate your planet,” he’s scrambling to get away from him, books held tightly to his chest. Dib lets him go; the bell is ringing anyway.

  
  
  


Dib decides on a different tactic. To gather information from a distance. If it means he doesn’t have to be so close to Zim, then he won’t have think on the way a blush looks on a human Zim’s face. There are too many implications there, so Dib brushes those thoughts away.

He sees him later again in the hall between classes, with Tak, pointing to a flyer for a school dance looking irritated and… Discouraged? Tak was rolling her eyes, patting his shoulder. Dib wrote that down. He see’s him again with his arms folded in front of him head on a desk, looking exhausted in class later. Staring out the window. Later, Dib watches him through a window argue with a teacher over a failing grade. Watches Tak force him to sign up for tutoring. The whole day goes on this way, Zim acting like a  _ normal student,  _ Tak at his side, while he complains about classmates, about an issue in his base, about Gir, about the Tallest’s. Once, about  _ Dib.  _

Dib ducks beneath a bleacher while Zim sits with his knees drawn up, watching an empty football field, Tak beside him with eight boxes of apple juice between them like kindergartners.

“Have you told that one kid? With the head-”

“Dib?” Zim spits. “ _ The Dib  _ doesn’t get anything. Of course he doesn’t get anything! He never does…”  _ Is he SULKING? _

“Well maybe because you’re acting like a complete  _ freak,  _ Zim,”

“ZIM IS NOT A FREAK!”

Dib scatters from the bleachers when his heel crushes a leaf, catching their attention. Later, he stands in front of his locker, plastered with paranormal news clippings, recent UFO sightings, his school schedule  _ and  _ Zim’s. Sometimes, he thinks it’s creepy, knowing Zim’s routine to the T that he does.  _ But an alien trying to assimilate into human culture is creepier,  _ and so Dib doesn’t lose any sleep over it. 

His notes tell him nothing. Tak doesn’t appear to be up to anything, either, and has in fact surpassed him in their biology and algebra class, despite only being a student for supposedly two days. He’s not sure how that’s possible, but…

Perhaps Zim isn’t actually planning  _ anything.  _ But if not that, then what the hell’s he up to? Dib’s head is hurting. Earlier in class, when Zim had sat with his arms folded, he’d tugged his hoodie up onto his head. His hair was a mess of thick black waves. He wondered if Zim had chosen certain details about his disguise, or had Tak decided all of it for him? Did he think wavy hair was attractive? Or was it just a coincidence? Did he like anything about the way he looked? Did he realize when he was “relaxed” (or distracted; Zim never relaxed) he looked… 

Dib doesn’t want to use the word attractive; Dib won’t use the word attractive…

_ He looks  _ bearable. Yeah. that worked.

Zim’s jacket was too big for him. Despite the height he had on Dib, Dib’s shoulders were wider. He was still  _ larger  _ by a bit. His jacket would be three sizes too big on Zim, if he was wearing it. It’d swallow him, not as much as it would if he were Irken-looking, but in this new disguise, it’d fit, and he’d look like one of the football players’ pretty blonde girlfriends wearing their boyfriend’s varsity jackets, and-

The sound of footsteps brings him thankfully from that horrible comparison. He peeks out, see’s Tak coming, waits...

Dib snatches Tak into a doorway as she’s passing by with a hall pass. He points a finger at her.

“ _ WHAT’S  _ going on with you two!”

When the shock of who’s grabbed her fades to irritation, Tak scowls.

“Still going on about this, Dib?” 

“You’ve been gone for  _ years,  _ Tak! You nearly destroyed planet earth! Of  _ course  _ I’m still going on about this!”

“Jeez, you really  _ haven’t _ grown up at all,” she mutters, noting his height in a cursory way; he’s taller than her, now. She crosses her arms over her chest, begins to tap her fingers against her arm. She sighs, having considered something. Dib’s about to repeat his question when she starts talking. “Have you considered that the “ _ almighty _ ”,” exaggerated quotes here, “ _ Zim  _ has perhaps  _ nothing  _ up his sleeve and is, just maybe, more comfortable on this planet than he lets on?” 

Dib blinks. “What does that even mean?” Zim hates Earth. Yesterday he went on a fifteen-minute rant over the phone over his disgust of the season of  _ fall,  _ because it was too cold and he hated having to wear scarves. Zim calls Dib once a week, randomly, sometimes as early as three am. He claims it’s a  _ “prank call”  _ but Dib knows it’s Zim every time, and he is aware, in the back of his mind, that these phone calls often devolve into actual, semi-civil conversations that leaves them both embarrassed and irritated when it goes on for too long. 

Tak’s half- mast eyes are uninterested. “Perhaps his base has become home to him. Just maybe… And perhaps, also… There’s nowhere else for him to go.”

Was that pity he heard in her voice? Maybe she’s just tired; she yawns. Yeah, she’s just tired. “What are you talking about?” Dib’s brow furrows.

Tak waves a careless hand. “Maybe Zim and I have made an agreement. I will stop trying to steal away his nonexistent, stupid mission if he’ll help me return to Irk. Build me a brand new ship. I’ll pretend I’ve vanquished him, and the Tallest won't bother with him any longer. And he can continue living in ignorant bliss of what awaits him back home,”

_ Nonexistent?  _ This was all… Way more information than Dib expected. “Why would  _ you  _ help  _ Zim? _ And what’s waiting for him back home?” Dib’s leaned in. He can’t imagine Zim would allow  _ anyone _ to think anybody had taken  _ him out _ , especially when it wasn’t true. Even in his favor, it would hurt his ego terribly. But why would anyone need to think Zim was dead to begin with? 

Dib thinks about the corkboard back at home, all four of them. He’s got Zim down to a T, his schedule, his habits, his speech patterns; but he feels, suddenly, a little out of his league. Emotional depth was not something Dib considered when it came to Zim. And when he did, he did well to forget those incidents as quickly as he could.

“Because he helped me first.” Tak shrugs, looking only slightly peeved, “And there’s a trial and execution awaiting him on Irk.”

Dib surprises himself when his blood runs a bit cold. “_A_ _what!?” _

She shrugs again, then peers out of the doorway into the hall, impatient. “You’ve no other Irken to compare him to, but you’ve noticed Zim is  _ notably  _ moronic  _ right _ ?” Dib nods. “Well, you’re not the only one who has. He’s a nuisance. You’ve no idea the trouble he’s caused his own people. Usually, I wouldn’t be so willing to betray these sort of secrets but this is  _ Zim _ we’re talking about. So, really, what’s the harm.” Tak sighs and glances aside. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she begins to turn, but Dib catches her arm. She tenses.

“Wait! Why did Zim help you?”

“Because he found out the Tallest’s wanted him dead,” she yanks her hand away, “and he makes desperate alliances. What, Zim hasn’t been acting strange, lately, to you?”

On the contrary, Zim hadn’t shown up two days in a row last week… Dib had stalked around his house in response to  _ that… _ Nothing had come up and when Zim had returned on a Friday looking normal, he’d acted as if he’d been around just the same. Dib had thought little of it.

“I hate to give him credit but this was all his-”

The shrill ring of the bell makes both of them jolt. They leap from the doorway they’ve taken shelter into just in time for a stream of students to slip out. In the middle of the hallway, Dib stares at Tak. “Why do Zim’s leaders wanna kill him?” he asks in a hushed whisper.

“Why do  _ you  _ wanna kill him?”

In truth, Dib didn’t really wanna  _ kill  _ Zim anymore, or even allow any government agent to do it. But neither of them liked to admit to their unwillingness to truly hurt the other. That implied way too much. Easier to pretend, act like things were still the way they used to be. Tak allows his silence as answer enough, turns from him, and disappears into the crowd.

  
  


Dib spends the day’s final classes in a daze. The lessons go in one ear and out the other. His chin is in his hand and he stares out the window. What did Zim do those two days? How’d he find Tak so quickly? Had he known where she was all this time? What did that mean? What had he done when he’d learned he was to be executed? Had he felt upset? Betrayed? Zim loved his Tallest’s. Dib didn’t get why. In his experience, they seemed less than kind or even gracious. But then lots of what Zim did didn’t exactly make much sense… Even so.  _ Why hasn’t he said anything about all this?  _ Tak had called his mission  _ nonexistent. _

Dib’s head begins to hurt.

Was this a sort of pity he was feeling? Or even jealousy? Zim had sought out Tak for help. That might’ve taken him months, just to locate then contact her. Dib lived just two blocks away. But then, they were enemies, afterall… That’s all they’d ever been, right? Four days ago, Zim had made some offhand comment about wanting to see this awful, gore-fest film that was coming out in lieu of Halloween. Dib had scoffed and called those movies trashy and Zim had gotta angry… Zim  _ never  _ went to the movies, he preferred rentals, and anyway, he didn’t like having to sit through most of them.

... Had he been trying to ask Dib to hang out to see it? The thought made him sit up, squint. There was no way that was the case. Even if Zim was beginning to get accustomed to Earth life, even if he was sticking around for a little longer than earlier planned - they were still enemies, weren’t they..?

Dib doesn’t take the bus today. Instead, he follows Zim who walks with Tak, pacing them by some twenty yards. He slips behind light poles and peers over fences. He tiptoes over orange fallen leaves and ducks behind mail posts. Neither turn back and he knows his stealth game has  _ really  _ improved until Tak turns and meets his eyes immediately _ . _

“Dib, does this look like a normal dog to you?”

“Of  _ course it’s a normal dog! IT’S A NORMAL LOOKING EARTH DOG!”  _ Zim shouts as Tak holds up what appears to be a green, squirming rat. And Dib, already distracted from his foiled game of stealth, draws forward, squinting at it. 

“Wh… What the  _ hell  _ is that?” He asks when he’s close enough to really see it. It’s eyes bulge and it’s drooling- no,  _ foaming _ at the mouth. Zim snatches the creature from Tak.

“Insult my SIR unit like that again and I’ll tear your eyes from your skull-” he snarls, clutching the creature to his chest. It makes a squealing noise and he loosens his grasp as it collapses into a heap on the cement… Then the hologram fizzles out, and Gir, in his moldy, torn, familiar dog suit gathers himself up, a leash trailing behind him. Zim bends to snatch it up.

“This was Zim’s attempt at… Whatever that was…” Tak stares half-lidded at Gir.

“That  _ thing  _ looked like it’d been dipped in a vat of radioactive  _ acid, _ ” Dib is disgusted.

“SILENCE! In his superior disguise, Gir is not my DOG thing, he is my, ehhh, rat. Vermin. Ferret. Yes. WHATEVER. Gir is far better appreciated as he is now, so shut up!” Zim allows Gir to tug him forward, and Tak begins walking with him again.

Dib doesn’t realize he’s walked home with them until he’s at the entryway to Zim’s house. The glow reflects in his glasses and discomfort of something possibly akin to  _ friendship  _ flutters in his chest. He’s walking between them and neither have pulled away in disgust. Or called him crazy. Zim’s called him many insults but he’s heard them all so many times they might as well be neutral terms. He’s pretty certain his dad has even called the insults  _ endearing  _ before.

Tak steps up the entryway. Zim whirls to face Dib. He’s pointing at him.

“COME NO CLOSER, HUMAN.” Ah, old boundaries recalled. A shame, because Tak had mentioned watching a movie and Dib was sort of looking forward to being… Invited in. He could take up Zim’s earlier request to watch one. Not that he needed to make up anything to Zim, ever. “I’ll see you  _ tomorrow, human, _ ”

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Tak calls over her shoulders. “Don’t you two ever take a break?”

“ _ Of COURSE not!” _ Zim and Dib howl at the same time. They glare at each other. Zim tries to turn, suddenly, on his heels (they’re taller than usual boots; Dib might dare call these boots  _ high-heeled _ . Maybe Zim  _ doesn’t  _ have much height on him after all.). Suddenly, Dib reaches out. He snatches the back of Zim’s jacket and makes him stumble. 

“Why are you giving Tak a new ship? She tried to steal your mission and destroy planet Earth..!” Dib hisses in a whisper. Zim looks startled; then, a look of anger and betrayal dawns on his face. Zim turns to point at Tak, but she’s already halfway through the doorway. A black cat with striking red eyes makes figure-eights around her feet, then darts in after her. 

He faces Dib again, snarling. “Tak is an Irken, stupid Dib. Of course I’m helping her,” he waves a hand, but avoids his eye. “And when did you  _ LEARN  _ of this detail, anyway, human? Perhaps it is a lie. Perhaps I am not giving Tak a new ship-”

Dib ignores him. “Why are you  _ making  _ her a new ship and not just stealing back the one  _ I  _ have?!”

Zim’s left eye twitches and he glares at Dib, hard, “Would you prefer I do it that way,  _ Dib-thing?!  _ So that you become a  _ useless,  _ pathetic enemy that cannot even follow Zim into outer space?! Absolutely not! And anyway. She refuses to use a ship that smells so  _ sickly  _ human. Now I demand you tell Zim where you heard this information-”

“Tak told me-”

He throws his arms out in frustration, “ARGH-  _ TAK..!  _ What  _ else  _ did she tell you, human?” Zim’s drawn in close. There’s a real snarl in his mouth that looks less mischievous and more malicious. Of course, it was stupid to wonder why Zim wouldn’t want to ask Dib for help; if Dib knew how his people, his own  _ leaders  _ thought of him, then what would the human think?

Dib isn’t sure what he thinks, yet.

He holds up two hands in surrender, rolling his eyes.

“Geez, Zim, I’m not in cahoots with Tak-”

“YOU ARE IN  _ WHAT _ WITH TAK?!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s pretty sure Zim has ruined his eardrums to the point that outbursts like this hardly startle him. “I told you she- ugh, Zim, I’m- I just- she didn’t tell me much. You’re making her a ship so she can return to Irk. That’s it,”

Zim looks him up and down. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Zim holds his glare on him a moment longer, then raises his chin, only slightly confident in that answer. Zim can sniff out a lie, too, but he’s bad at realizing what’s a lie and what isn’t; usually, his guesses are way off. He starts to turn away again, and Dib reaches out. He isn’t sure why. This time, he misses Zim’s sleeve; he catches his gloved hand instead.

Zim is, Dib has learned over the years, usually very cold. Like a vampire, he always thought. It wasn’t strange that Irkens were cold-blooded. Space was freezing, and he imagined Irk was likewise. But despite the hologram, Zim’s wrist radiated living heat through his gloves that made them both jump and jerk away. Zim looks at his wrist, then Dib’s hand in shock then disgust.

Irkens also didn’t seem capable of blushing. Humans, however, are.

“Um-”

  
“DO NOT TOUCH ZIM-”

“Zim, just  _ wait  _ a second-”

“ _ What do you want, Dib _ ?” He demands, exasperated. He grips the touched wrist self-consciously. Dib opens his mouth. He wants to know how long Zim knew any of this. He wants to know why Zim hasn’t teamed up with Tak to take over the Earth in spite of his leaders. This is quite an opportunity, enough to make Dib apprehensive, even if Tak does seem to be telling the truth. Together, they could do it, hell,  _ Tak  _ could have done it had they not realized her plan. He wants to know why Zim collects college applications like they’re game tokens, why he goes to highschool football games and sits on a top bleacher with his chin in his hands and watches the game slightly intrigued, why he’s been doing this since way before he’d learned he was a dead man walking if he went back to Irk. Why Zim goes to that clearing in the woods on the other side of town and stares at the sky and doesn’t rub his claws together in maniacal glee of whatever horrible plan he’s yet to put into place. He just stares up at the sky. Dib can’t ever quite decipher his expression. 

Maybe Zim’s known for a long time. Maybe he’s known way before he disappeared those two days, maybe he’s known for years. Dib wonders if he already knows the answer to all those questions, and just wants to hear Zim say it.

Zim hasn’t done anything really worth  _ stalking _ in months. Aside from little things, like putting bugs in Dib’s drinks, tracking devices that hardly work, and once, popping one of Dib’s tires on his bike. But nothing really like he did when they were younger. The worst of it is, Dib used to think he’d mind if Zim stopped trying to take over the Earth; really, he’d just mind if Zim gave that up and left. As long as he’s still here, well, what was there to worry about?

All these things fly by Dib’s mind, punctuated by the fact that Zim’s eyes are not shitty, scary contacts but real, human eyes, and while Dib thinks he prefers ( _ PREFERS?!)  _ his big, fuschia bug eyes, these are…

… Not unwelcome….

Dib opens his mouth and shouts quickly, “YourdisguiselookslikePURESHIT!” and darts away, feet crashing against the sidewalk while Zim screeches after him. He’s glad Zim didn’t change his voice.

That would have been  _ too  _ weird.

**Author's Note:**

> should i write a second part where they .. .. k .. .. . .. . k...kiss?
> 
> is it still zadr if he's using his new disguise???? turn your answers in by Friday 11pm for full credit.


End file.
